


falling leaves

by karasun013 (Amiria_Raven)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Bokuto Koutarou & Kuroo Tetsurou are Bros, Dryad AU, Fantasy AU, Fluff, Greek Mythology - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, Keiji and Kenma are Half-Dryad, Kuroo and Bokuto are conservation students, M/M, Nymphs & Dryads, Sickfic, Slight pining, dryad, fantasyhaikyuuexchange2k18
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-08-09 14:48:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16451930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amiria_Raven/pseuds/karasun013
Summary: Or, the life of the forest is a cycle, and Keiji wants to learn how Bokuto Koutarou fits into it.





	falling leaves

**Author's Note:**

  * For [daivinchi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/daivinchi/gifts).



> Alternate Title: Tree's Company.
> 
> quote that inspired the actual title: "falling leaves return to the root", part of a Malay proverb.
> 
> It got a little out of hand, but I hope you like it, Snickers! :D

 

Akaashi Keiji was dying.

Or rather, the strong and healthy and young oak tree that his dryad mother had bound his life to was dying, and so Keiji was by extension.

It was a young tree, around eighty years old. It had been hale and hearty, and his mother had been very meticulous when choosing a tree to bind her son’s life to. She wanted to enhance his dryad blood and perhaps extend his life beyond normal mortal years, beyond the limit put on his lifespan by his human father, and so she had performed a ritual. It was generally risky at best, but she had been certain that the young tree was strong and had a long life to life. And Keiji had a knack for mending trees, so he would protect it well.

Protection is hard against unseen evils, and his tree unexpectedly fell ill.

It wasn’t just Keiji’s tree. Others in the forest began to fall ill, and the dryads were beside themselves. Not many of the young dryads were bound to trees in the way of a hamadryad, but they still cared deeply for each tree, and especially for whichever trees they considered home. Keiji was thankful that of the dryads who bound themselves to a tree, his own tree was the only one ailing.

His mother wasn’t so thankful. She cared about the rest of the forest, of course, but once all the trees under her general jurisdiction were deemed clear, she focused all her energy on the restoration of Keiji’s tree. She prayed, almost daily, to the goddess Artemis, asking for her blessing and her guidance. As his own tree’s condition worsened and he grew weaker and weaker alongside it, Keiji did not expect nor had he earned the goddess’ favor the way his mother had in her youth. And Artemis had already helped years ago, in the ritual that bound him to his tree, as a boon to his mother for saving a Hunter in years almost forgotten. 

Artemis had already helped him, so she need not show her divine favor more than that. This was Keiji’s battle, and his alone.

And yet, the first time Keiji saw  _ him _ , he had to wonder if Artemis had somehow heeded his mother’s prayers.

The human reeked of another god or goddess’ favor, but Keiji couldn’t tell which. He was young yet, and Artemis herself was one of the few he had encountered. But this mortal...he was kissed by the sun and blessed by good cheer, and he seemed at one with the forest. His hair was unusual, tall and streaked with white in two horns that reminded him almost of an owl. Keiji watched him as he wandered around, from a safe distance and as if he were one with the trees around him. He watched lest the human should harm any of the flora or fauna of the forest, but the man was exceedingly gentle. He did not crash through the underbrush like other mortals that came this way, but moved  _ with _ the paths created by other denizens of the forest. 

He did not force his way, but rather convinced the forest to let him pass.

The man didn’t push too deep into the forest that day. Keiji watched from the shadows until the man turned away, and then he continued his own task of gathering small herbs for the salve he used on his tree’s ailing roots, whether it did much good or not. But even after the human had turned back, he remained at the fore of Keiji’s thoughts.

_ I wonder if I’ll see him again _ .

* * *

 

“How are they?”

Kenma asked as they ate near his tree a few days later. He was bound in the same way Keiji was, and thankfully his tree was as healthy as ever. And Keiji knew, from years of learning how to read his friend, that Kenma was asking about his tree, and the others that had been showing signs of illness.

“Shimizu-san’s tree has recovered already,” Keiji answered, brushing his fingers along the roots of Kenma’s tree next to them, feeling the healthy thrum of life pulsing through his fingertips. How long had it been since his own tree had thrived so well? “We’re going to keep an eye on it to make sure it doesn’t suffer a relapse, but we’re confident that it’s recovered. Most of the others are still about the same, some a little better than before.”

_ Sick, but not dying _ , he neglected to say out loud.

Kenma could read him like a book, though, and pressed, “And yours?”

Keiji rolled a few replies around in his head, but didn’t know which to choose, but finally he sighed softly and admitted, “Worse than before.”

“I thought you looked paler,” Kenma frowned, pressing his palm against his tree and looking down, brow furrowed in thought. His long hair slipped in front of his eyes and he murmured, “Your mother has been trying everything.”

“I know,” Keiji leaned back and allowed the tree to support him. He could feel its life practically vibrating through his skin, though he knew Kenma could feel it even stronger. He missed that feeling. 

The two half-dryads fell silent then, the weight of words unsaid fluttering away on the breeze. Kenma tinkered idly with the latest technological device that had appeared in the forest. He always had a knack for finding them, or other dryads would bring them to him because they knew he was curious. Though the power in them was usually already gone or would fade fast, Kenma still had an understanding for them beyond even what Keiji had attempted.

Keiji didn’t need Kenma to fill the silence with the lengths his mother had gone to, because the forest had eyes and ears. The dryads were gossips through and through, and those that deemed it still safe to speak to him without risking the health of their own trees would often visit with him. He knew, even without his mother telling him, that she had been to the farthest reaches of the forest for herbs, that she’d prayed to Artemis from every grove the goddess had deigned to stay a night with her hunters, and that she’d even once or twice ventured into the towns and cities nearby to see if she could find solutions among the humans, though she never stayed long. She wasn’t as suited to the city as Kenma, or even Keiji, because her delicate nature was at odds with the poison in the air of a human city.

And while his mother was out and about, Keiji was learning all of her endeavors from the other dryads. Even the youngest dryads of the forest had about a century on both he and Kenma, so they were surrounded by a caring army of young mothers and older sisters who all wished them the best. Some of them tried to help with his tree, too, singing healing songs and helping with the medicinal salve.

They cared for their own because they cared for their forest, and somehow, some way, Keiji fit into all of that. He was grateful.

“There’s still time,” Keiji finally said, his voice much more rough than he’d imagined. “Not much time left, perhaps, but my tree has given me a lot, and I’ll do everything I can to give back to it.”

“I’m looking, too,” Kenma muttered, flipping the device over in his hands. “I’ve been trying to research sometimes, in the city nearby.”

Kenma liked visiting the city beyond the forest. Keiji went with him occasionally, but the air was stifling compared to the crisp, fresh air in the forest. He was like the other dryads, in that way, though their wariness extended to the nature of humans themselves–and for good reason, judging from the state of some of the trees near the forest’s outskirts–but few of them completely avoided the cities and towns. They sometimes wandered in to help tend to the trees within the city proper, though they had to return to the forest early and often for fresh air.

“The library?” Keiji asked after a moment, glancing over.

Kenma nodded. “Some books, and the internet.”

The internet was an odd thing, but thanks to Kenma, Keiji thought he had a passing understanding of it, and the computers that allowed access to it. Kenma used them at the library often enough, and he’d heard a lot from his friend. Maybe there would actually be something useful there that they couldn’t find on their own, but Keiji wouldn’t hold his breath for too much.

“Just let me know if you find anything, Kenma-san,” Keiji chuckled dryly. “Maybe we could actually stand to learn something from humans, for once.”

Kenma gave him an odd look, then snorted. “You say that as if you aren’t half-human yourself.” He looked away again, his hair falling in front of his face again, and bit his lip in uncertainty before continuing. “I’ve...talked to a conservation agency, recently. They’re supposed to protect wildlife and help to identify and heal diseased plants, or something. They said they’d survey the forest sometime this week for signs of the illnesses I told them about, and then they’d email me back.”

“You’re going to town soon, then,” Keiji deduced, and Kenma grunted his agreement. He had to use the library computers to access his email, after all, if he was checking for a reply.

“I planned to go in tomorrow. That gives them an entire week from when we last spoke.”

Keiji wondered if the odd, gentle human from three days prior had anything to do with Kenma’s outside request for help. He seemed like he cared about the flora and fauna, so perhaps he was one of these conservationists.

“Well, hopefully they’ll know something,” he shrugged. “I wonder i–” 

His thought shattered as the sensation of touch raced across his skin, and he gasped, shooting to his feet as quickly as his limbs would allow. It was as if invisible hands were tracing across his shoulder blades, rubbing right in the middle of his back, and panic seized him for a moment.

Kenma asked him what was wrong, alarm in his golden irises, but Keiji could hardly think to form words. He tried to calm his racing heart to say something, anything, but couldn’t manage.

The sting of the foreign touch pricked up his calf, a featherlight touch and the weak thrum of life beneath curious hands, and Keiji finally understood.

“ _ There’s someone at my tree _ ,” the words tumbled out in a breath, and then Keiji was sprinting for home as Kenma scrambled to follow. 

Their feet carried them swiftly through the forest, and Keiji couldn’t remember ever moving this fast before. He was light on his feet, flitting past other trees and scarcely making a sound. What sound Kenma made in his pursuit of Keiji was drowned out by the sound of Keiji’s tree, its life, rushing through his body.

Shock, at first. Shock at being touched, which meant it wasn’t a dryad or another forest creature. And Keiji could feel the ghost pressure of hands across his skin–hands that were roaming the bark, prodding and searching–so it must have been a human.

He was close when he heard it, before he saw his tree.

“You’re sick, aren’t you?” the voice was gentle, kind, and punctuated with the light brush of fingers resting on Keiji’s knee. 

“I think this one’s the worst so far, Bo,” another voice observed as Keiji stumbled into the clearing across which he would find his tree. “You think it’s the one we were emailed about?”

“What…” Keiji sucked in a careful breath as the word rushed out, before he could control himself. The two humans turned to look at him quickly. The one kneeling with his palm resting lightly against the trunk of Keiji’s tree–he felt the pressure on the back of his thigh–spun too fast and tumbled to the ground, landing hard on his backside. Keiji tried to regain his composure and then continued, “What...are you doing here?”

“We could ask you the same,” drawled the standing man, dark hair obscuring part of his face as he shifted his weight. “That was quite an appearance. Were you trying to scare us half to death?”

“K-Keiji, what the  _ hell _ ,” Kenma stumbled after him, hands on his knees. “You can’t just run off like that after saying–” he stood up and cut himself off, staring at the people before him. “Who…are you?”

“B-Bokuto Koutarou,” the man on the ground responded, almost immediately, and as his racing heart finally quieted, Keiji realized that this Bokuto was, in fact, the man from a few days prior. His eyes were blown wide in surprise, and his gaze was fixed on Keiji. “And he’s Kuroo Tetsurou. We’re conservation students sent to survey the area!”

Keiji stared, and Kenma sighed and stepped slightly forward. “Kozume Kenma, and this is my friend Akaashi Keiji. We...come here often, for the fresh air.”

At the feeling of Kenma’s fingers lightly brushing his shoulder, Keiji snapped back to himself and bowed slightly.

“I apologize for being rude, Bokuto-san, Kuroo-san. I’m not used to seeing other people in this area and was...concerned...for the flora.”

“Oh, are you in conservation too?” the one named Bokuto asked excitedly, scrambling to his feet. “It’s not very often you meet many people our age that care so much about nature! It’s really awesome, don’t you think?”

Kuroo ignored his friend and stepped forward a little, offering a hand. Kenma stepped forward and took it warily, shaking, as Keiji straightened from his bow.

“You said your name was Kozume, right?” he asked, running a hand through his dark hair. “Then you  _ are _ the one who sent us the email about the trees that have contracted a disease of some sort?”

“Yes,” Kenma answered shortly, stepping back and shoving his hand back in his pocket, turning toward Keiji’s tree. “You found the worst one already, too.”

“Oh!” Bokuto turned back to Keiji’s tree, and Keiji jumped a little as he ran his fingers lightly across a blemish in a visible root. “Yeah, it looks like this one’s pretty sick. Do you know how long it’s been going on?”

_ Sixteen months _ , Keiji wanted to say. He’d been feeling unwell himself for about that long, but he held that thought back and said instead, “We thought something might be wrong for a while, but we started to really notice it just a couple months ago.”

Kenma shot him a knowing glance, bordering on a glare. “We thought it would get better on its own, or with a little help, but it kept getting worse, so I started looking up ways to help it and found the conservation site.”

Kuroo nodded, looking back to the tree. He gave it a once-over, then his eyes lingered up higher. Keiji followed his gaze to the nook, and then he asked, “Do you know if any wildlife lives in the tree?”

His companion, the one that radiated divine blessing and favor, turned to look back at the tree and yelped, stepping up close and peering up towards the same hole in the trunk, several feet above his head. “Hey hey hey! Do you think some owls live up there? Hey, ‘Kaashi-san, Kozume-san, do you know?”

“Kenma is fine,” Kenma nearly muttered, but Kuroo raised a curious brow. The half-dryad hid his face and looked up and then to Keiji. It was almost like asking permission. “I’m not sure…”

“Spotted owls,” Keiji answered with only a little hesitance. He shared his tree with them, but the health of his tree was more important than allowing a human to know they existed. “I’ve seen them...once or twice.”

“Owls!” Bokuto gasped, leaning lightly against the tree. The ghost pressure of his palms on Keiji’s thighs made him take a slow, steadying breath as the conservation student craned his neck to look upwards. “Do you know if they’re healthy? Is the illness in the trees affecting the wildlife at all?”

Keiji wasn’t as good with animals–his nature sensitivity came from his dryad heritage, and his strongest connection was to oak trees like his own–but they seemed healthy enough. He said as much, leaving out the connection with trees, and Bokuto hummed in acknowledgement, sliding around to look upwards once more.

“Bo’s good with owls,” Kuroo explained, since it seemed that the other wasn’t going to. “They’re his main focus. I’m your tree guy.”

_ You’re not a tree at all _ , Keiji almost said, and he could read a similar sentiment on Kenma’s face, but neither said as much. Instead, he turned back up to look at where the nest rested, focusing enough to feel the soft flutter of the owls shifting near his heart. He wondered if he could coax them out, just to see that soft look on Bokuto’s face blossom into a smile the likes of which he’d seen a few days ago when he’d watched him carefully trekked through the forest.

Kenma’s voice pulled him from his thoughts, and Keiji blinked and looked away from the man at his tree. “So then, have you figured out what’s wrong?”

The self-proclaimed ‘tree guy’ furrowed his brow, just a little, and turned back to the tree. Bokuto seemed to sense his gaze and stepped back, his fingers slowly pulling away and the prickle in Keiji’s skin fading once his touch was gone. “It’s hard to say what the cause is for sure, but I think it’s a type of root rot. If it’s like the others we’ve found this week, it’ll be a bacterial infection, which is easier to treat than a fungal infection.”

He stepped nearer and knelt by one of the roots that rose from the ground. He ran his fingers along it lightly and then leaned forward to...smell it? Keiji wanted to step forward, to ask what he was doing, but Kenma placed a gentle hand on his arm.

“What are the treatments?”

“Well, there’s not really any way to stop a fungal infection from spreading if that’s what it is,” Bokuto said, frowning slightly. “But for bacterial infections, we can loosen the soil near the roots for a while and allow the roots to dry out, just a little. A lot of bacterial infections in trees are caused by oversaturation–or, well, too much water. The big rainstorms that went through here about a year and a half ago could have started it, but rainfall has been pretty heavy in the last few months, too, so it’s probably that. We won’t know for sure until Kuroo has some time to look into it and check with our superiors to make sure, but we’ll do what we can!”

“Anyway, Kenma-san,” Kuroo said, after Keiji felt a prick of pain between his toes and flinched, “we have to take this small sample,” he held up a small bag in which rested...a piece of Keiji’s roots. He felt a surge of anger– _ how dare this human harm my tree? _ –but a calming rush filled him. His tree, telling him that it was okay–it was a small prick, it didn’t hurt too much, it seemed–and he swallowed his rage. “It may have hurt a little to take, but I promise it won’t be too much. Once we analyze it and know how to help, we’ll do our best to get the trees back to full health. Okay?”

Kenma’s face was contorted in a nearly unreadable expression that Keiji recognized as bitterness. He, too, was fixated on the small piece of root encased in unforgiving, man made plastic. He, however, nodded, and Keiji swallowed thickly.

“I hope I can check up on the owls, sometime,” Bokuto mused then, and Keiji felt the gentle press of fingertips on the side of his knee. “I’ll make sure to do my best to help Kuroo for them and their home, though!”

Bokuto grinned as Keiji’s attention was drawn back to him, and Keiji watched the way his amber irises softened as he gazed back up at the nest. Suddenly, the aura around him made sense.

“Athena,” he murmured aloud, seeing the traits and the nature of her blessing now that the pieces had fallen together. Kenma looked to him quickly, eyes wide. Bokuto, too, turned his head in Keiji’s direction, almost as quickly. His lips parted, as if to speak, but he said nothing and merely stared in silence. Kuroo, busy tucking the sample away in his bag, seemed unaware of the other’s reactions.

“Huh? What was that, Akaashi-san?” he asked, sealing his satchel and looking up again with his dark hair in his eyes.

Keiji tore his eyes away from the blessed one, the one favored by the goddess Athena, and back to the arborist. “Just let me–us–know, Kuroo-san. What you find out, that is.”

He grinned. “Sure thing! We’ll email Kenma-san, and maybe we’ll see you around?”

“Maybe,” Kenma answered softly, but Keiji could tell that his friend was curious.

“Thank you for your time,” Keiji bowed, and after a few more words, they parted ways.

Bokuto never said anything about Keiji’s realization, but he felt the other man’s gaze burning into his back after he and his friend had passed by and headed for the city on the outskirts of this part of the forest. It was brief, but it lingered just as much as the light touches of his hand against Keiji’s tree.

“So he was blessed, like I thought,” Keiji murmured once they had gone.

“Owls,” Kenma said simply, watching as one peered from its next up high. “Athena  _ would _ choose a human that cared for owls.”

Keiji wondered if that was enough to earn a goddess’ divine favor, but didn’t say as much. Even if caring for owls and protecting them wasn’t enough to garner a blessing, the man had still done something that the goddess had commended him for. He wondered, idly, what it might be.

It would have to wait, though, because the trees were becoming livelier as their dryads and other spirits started to come out, to question the interaction with humans and why. 

* * *

 

Another week slipped by, and Keiji had been caught by Bokuto each and every one. He hadn’t tried very hard to hide his presence, though, and somehow doubted he could if he tried. But Kuroo and Kenma had left them to tend a few trees in the same grove as Keiji’s, wandering to tend to others, and Bokuto seemed antsy. 

“Did you have something you wanted to say to me, Bokuto-san?” Keiji finally asked, a little exasperated, as he felt the ornithologist’s eyes on him for what must have been the twelfth time. Bokuto yelped and fell back on his rear, blinking rapidly, then laughed.

“Hey, hey, hey, don’t call me out like that, ‘Kaashi!”

He’d dropped the suffix, but Keiji didn’t mind. It was...pleasant, somehow.

“I can’t hear myself think when you won’t stop staring,” Keiji responded with little real bite but enough snark to make the human snort, and then let out a chuckle. “If you have something to say, just say it.”

“You’re pretty blunt, Akaashi,” he mused, tilting his head back and looking up at the sky through the leafy canopy above. “But you sure know how to get to the  _ point _ .”

Keiji rolled his eyes as Bokuto laughed over his own joke. After a few moments, as Keiji carefully sifted soil away from the roots of one of the infected trees as Kuroo had taught them, Bokuto looked back down.

“How’d you know it was Athena so quick?”

Keiji’s hands stilled, soil sifting between his fingers and returning to the ground. He turned his head slowly, watching as the human idly drew patterns in the loose soil in front of him before raising his eyes to Keiji’s. Bokuto raised an eyebrow–right, he wanted an answer.

“Owls,” Keiji managed to answer simply, brushing some soil from his palms as he peered curiously at Bokuto.

“That’s all?” Bokuto asked incredulously. “Was that really all it took for you? I still can’t tell whose favor you’ve got, and I’ve had a week longer!”

_ Favor _ ? Keiji? He laughed.

“You’ve got it wrong, Bokuto. I don’t have anyone’s favor, though my mother does.”

“No, no, no, I’m positive you’ve got a blessing!” Bokuto insisted, leaning forward. “Hey, hey, hey, does this forest have dryads? Maybe it was one of them, since you’re trying to help the trees and stuff! But if it was one of them, the blessing wouldn’t feel so strong, would it?”

“What makes you think I would know?” Keiji turned back to the root and brushed some more soil aside. “Guessing that you were blessed by Athena was probably just pure luck on my behalf. You could have easily been blessed by Apollo, or a lesser god.”

“But you can sense the blessing too, can’t you? Probably stronger, since you’re not all human.”

Keiji stilled, his eyes darting to Bokuto.

“What did you say?”

The human blinked, then looked back to him. Realization dawned across his features and he blanched a little, waving his hands in front of him. “I’m sorry! Was I not supposed to say anything? Were you guys trying to keep it from us, because I’m pretty sure Kuroo hasn’t noticed yet, since he doesn’t know anything about my blessing or whatever so I can keep it from him and all that, but I just thought it was kind of obvious? I mean, your clothes are a little out of style and neither of you have cell phones or anything, and you’re just too pretty to be entirely human–I didn’t say that.”

The way the flush pooled high in Bokuto’s cheeks probably mirrored the way Keiji’s face burned. He tried to find words to say, but his companion started again.

“I’m sorry! It’s not polite to call a guy pretty. You’re too  _ handsome _ to be all human! Wait, is that any better?”

“Bokuto-san,” Keiji managed, but he kept rambling.

“I mean. I still think you’re pretty. Dryads are supposed to be really beautiful nature spirits, right? Is your mom a dryad? Is that why you’re so pre–handsome?”

“Bokuto-san,” Keiji spoke louder, but he still didn’t cease.

“Wait. Am I jumping to conclusions too fast? Am I offending you? Are you actually really all human and am I insulting you? Or are you like...a guy dryad, even though I’ve never really heard of them before, and not any bit human at all? Can you do magic?”

“ _ Bokuto-san _ ,” his voice finally snapped the other out of his rambling, and his amber eyes flicked towards Keiji in a mix of shock and horror. Before he could start apologizing or start rambling or fall into a dejected state that Keiji had only seen once before, Keiji took a deep breath and prepared to admit more to a human than he’d ever dreamed.

“My mother is a dryad in the forest, and my father is a human she met years ago,” he said slowly, running his fingertips along the tree root in front of him. “When I was young, she performed a ritual with the help of the goddess Artemis to bind my life to the oak we first met at, like the hamadryads of old, as a way to draw out my dryad heritage and extend my mortal life.”

“But that tree is the sickest one…!” 

“It didn’t used to be,” Keiji pushed himself to his feet, smiling wryly down to Bokuto. “My mother was confident that it would live a long life, and that I would enjoy more years by extension.”

Bokuto frowned, then scrambled to his feet and reached out, fingers digging into Keiji’s arm uncomfortably, but not painfully. “Akaashi, doesn’t that mean that you’re sick, too?”

Keiji didn’t answer, but he figured the way he averted his gaze was answer enough.

“Your tree hasn’t been getting any better yet!” Bokuto exclaimed, and cupping Keiji’s arm more loosely. “So you don’t just have a cold, like you told Kuroo yesterday, do you? You’re falling even sicker as the tree does, aren’t you?!”

“All I’m worried about are the trees,” Keiji dodged the question, just a little. “I want to make sure they get better, as many of them as we can save.”

“ _ Akaashi _ .”

He turned to smile at Bokuto, though it felt forced and his next words felt bittersweet on his tongue. “I’m prepared, Bokuto-san, but I’m going to save as many of the other trees as I can even if we can’t save mine.”

_ Even if we can’t save me _ .

Bokuto squared his shoulders, reached to grab both of Keiji’s shoulders, and forced the half-dryad to look him in the eyes. “So help me, Akaashi Keiji, I’ll help cure your tree if it’s the last thing I do!”

A shudder ran through Keiji, and then he realized it wasn’t just him–there was a shudder in the air.

_ Oh, no _ .

“Bokuto-san, you can’t say things like that,” he said quickly, glancing around. “The influence of the gods is still strong in this place–they might hold you to that, and if you fail your life could be forfeit. You shouldn’t–”

“I meant it, ‘Kaashi. I’m not going to take it back,” Bokuto’s hands were firm against Keiji’s shoulders. “They can hold me to that all they want, because I’m going to do everything I can to save your tree–to save  _ you _ . I won’t just sit back and let you die!”

Faces in the trees swam at the edges of Keiji’s vision. They dryads were coming out to observe, to watch Bokuto and his interactions with Keiji, undoubtedly drawn by the vow that tugged at the air. There was magic in places like this, deep within the forest, and it was taking root. But the center of Keiji’s attention, his entire world, in that one moment was an ornithologist named Bokuto Koutarou, whose face was set in a determined scowl. It softened into a smile then, reassuring.

“I’m prepared, too,” he offered, softly.

“You’re an idiot,” Keiji bit out, but his voice trembled.

Bokuto really was an idiot, though. A beautiful, foolish, charming human that had essentially bound his own life to Keiji’s with just a few careless words. And Keiji couldn’t even pretend that Bokuto didn’t know the gravity of the situation, because he’d warned him and Bokuto had declared his resolve anyway. 

And he was just grinning at Keiji. “I’m a bit of an airhead sometimes, maybe, but I’m gonna help you get better, ‘Kaashi. Just watch.”

The dryads slipped nearer, more than a little curious at the human’s resolve, and Bokuto started to notice them. If they weren’t going to hide from Bokuto anymore, then there really was no hope.

“The gods will hold you to that,” he murmured, averting his eyes.

“Good.”

Brave, beautiful, bold, and so incredibly foolish.

Keiji’s heart squeezed, and he tried to turn his attention elsewhere, even as the sisters of the forest converged, greeting Bokuto and coming to softly comfort Keiji. Their voices were soft and rustling, like their leaves in the wind, and Bokuto was hardly fazed by their appearance. He didn’t even falter when the first spoke to him, tentatively.

“He is a good man,” Keiji recognized Shimizu’s voice, and turned to the young dryad. There was the ghost of a smile on her lips, and she adjusted the glasses on her nose. “You think he’s being foolish, but he intends to keep his word at any cost.”

“He’ll be punished if he fails,” he murmured back. “I don’t want to be the reason he dies, Shimizu-san.”

“You don’t know that he’ll die,” she reasoned, looking up at the foliage above. “The gods are fickle, sometimes.”

Keiji scowled, and she let out a single laugh, covering her mouth with a hand. 

“It’s simple, then. If you don’t want him to die, you’ll just have to live.”

Shimizu said it as though it was the easiest thing. He turned to her, but the words on his tongue faded when he saw that she was already slipping forward to get a closer look at Bokuto. An older dryad came forward in her place, to commend the efforts that he and Kenma had exerted to find humans that could help the forest, but Keiji could hardly focus on her when he met Bokuto’s gaze.

He learned, later, that everyone who had spoken to Bokuto had been wishing him well, and thanking him for his efforts.

“It just means they love you a lot, ‘Kaashi,” he smiled, softly but brightly, and Keiji’s chest tightened.

_ Do you love me, too _ ? 

* * *

 

A few days later, it rained.

Keiji’s tree did not take well to the added moisture in the days after. He felt it down to his bones–the chill of the wet between his toes and the fiery flood of what must have been a fever. He stayed next to the ailing tree, his cheek pressed against the trunk and a tattered old blanket wrapped around his shoulders as he felt the weakened pulse of life through his bond.

The sadness pushed through the bark and into Keiji’s chest, and he hummed.

“No, it’s not your fault,” he murmured to the tree, his voice soft. He shifted for a position only slightly more comfortable and let out a sigh as the illness dragged his eyelids closed. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” he told it, a hand resting lightly on one of the roots.

_ And neither did I _ , he thought, vaguely, as he slipped into sleep.

 

There was a warmth that settled against the side of his left middle toe, so strange in the midst of the cool, damp soil. And it was so sudden that it pulled him from his feverish slumber, just enough to be conscious of his surroundings. Keiji, blearily, realized that the warmth and the damp both were the sensations that his tree was feeling, but then there were warm hands on his shoulder, lifting him from where he’d slumped to the ground, and a distant voice.

“–ey, hey, ‘Kaashi, wake up!” 

_ Kenma…? _ Keiji mused, blinking a few times. The figure in front of him, though, was bigger than Kenma, and his voice was much louder.

“Akaashi,  _ please _ ,” his voice cracked, and a warm hand pushed Keiji’s hair back from his forehead. He found the strength to open his eyes, and felt the heat of the warm amber staring back at him.

“Bo...kuto-san…” he managed, haltingly, as his features swam into focus, slowly and then all at once as consciousness finally took hold. The man in front of him let out a huge sigh of relief, shifting his hand to press the back of it to Keiji’s forehead.

“You have a fever,” he breathed, shifting his hand to brush his knuckles along Keiji’s cheek. To his surprise, Bokuto breathed deeply and fell forward, his forehead against Keiji’s shoulder and his breath sending warm puffs of air against his chest. His heart clenched again, and Keiji debated whether or not he should react. Bokuto took the opportunity from him by sitting up. “Your blanket is damp, ‘Kaashi, what did you think it was going to protect you from?” He started rummaging through a bag that Keiji hadn’t noticed, tossed on the ground behind him.

“I-I’m not the one that’s ill, Bokuto-san,” he tried, but Bokuto scoffed.

“Tell yourself that all you want, ‘Kaashi, but if you’re bound to this tree, doesn’t that mean that when one of you is sick, the other is, too?” he raised an eyebrow, and then pushed something at Keiji. “It stopped raining yesterday morning, but your clothes are still wet. Take your shirt off and wear this one, instead.”

Keiji didn’t have the strength to argue, so he hummed his acknowledgment and started to tug on his shirt. Bokuto was right about it still being damp, but Keiji, in his haze, hadn’t even realized it.

“I was worried, so I came to check,” he said, and Keiji heard him rummaging in his bag once more. Keiji peeled his shirt off as Bokuto continued speaking. “It’s a good thing I came, too, or you’d probably get even sicker. I know you’re like, half dryad, but that means you’re half human too, and since your immune system is weak right now because your tree is sick, I wondered if you might catch a cold. You didn’t look too good yesterday, but I thought it would be polite not to say anything. Or something.”

He looked up, pulling a metal thermos out of the bag, and flushed a little. “What are you doing? Hurry up and put the shirt I gave you on!”

“Hm?” Keiji blinked slowly, and Bokuto leaned forward to take the sweater out of his lap. “Oh,” was the intelligent response that slipped out when the human leaned further to tug the shirt over his head. Keiji was able to focus enough to slide his arms in the appropriate holes and tug the shirt the rest of the way down, embarrassed at himself, before he averted his gaze and said, “Thank you, Bokuto-san.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” he frowned, placing the almost uncomfortably warm thermos in Keiji’s hand and curling his fingers around it. “This one is some tea, with a bit of honey and lemon. And I’ve got another one with something to eat. It’s just some rice porridge, but it’s food, and I’m sure you need to eat something.”

Keiji stared at him, and Bokuto’s earnest gaze faltered into uncertainty.

“...What is it, ‘Kaashi?”

“Why are you...doing so much for me?”

“Because I like you!” Bokuto answered almost instantly. A bit of color flooded his cheeks, but he pressed onwards. “I mean, at first you were just this kind of mysterious guy that didn’t have a phone and who seemed to spend all his time with really sick trees and who knew enough about the gods to recognize that I was blessed a long time ago. And then I learned more about you, and found out that both you and Kenma are pretty cool guys, and then that you’re  _ half dryad _ , which is kinda really cool, and then I learned about  _ your _ tree. And at first I was here to help find the sick trees and help Kuroo with them while maybe helping relocate any owls that might lose their homes to the disease but then I met  _ you _ and then the other dryads now I don’t think I’d ever forgive myself if I walked away before we were done here, not when all of them are believing in me.”

His words, just like his expressions and his actions, were so incredibly earnest that Keiji didn’t know what to say. “Bokuto-san…”

“And besides all that,” Bokuto’s eyes met Keiji’s briefly, then held, “there’s something I know I would regret if I just let you die.”

His tone was soft, and Keiji’s chest squeezed. He wondered, briefly, if this is the same kind of conviction that drew his mother to his father all those years ago. She’d said he was a man with a love of nature that drew her to him, after all.

“It wouldn’t be your fault, you know,” Keiji found himself saying, despite wanting to say something else entirely. 

“Doesn’t matter,” Bokuto said stiffly, pressing a small thermos cap full of porridge into his hand, as well as a metal spoon. “You’re amazing and selfless and all that, Akaashi, so I couldn’t help feeling that you might need help taking care of  _ yourself _ , since you’re always so focused on everyone else.”

He was talking about the trees when he said  _ everyone else _ , and Keiji knew it. The trees and their dryads, and the animals that called them home.

“Bokuto-san, I–”

“Enough talking for now, ‘Kaashi!” the ornithologist shoved the spoon in his face. “You need to eat!”

Keiji carefully took the spoon from Bokuto, his fingers lingering against the human’s, and slowly started to eat. Bokuto looked satisfied, if a little embarrassed, and Keiji’s heart throbbed. Against his back, he felt his tree return the emotion, and it helped him to fit the final pieces together.

_ Oh. _

_ I do love him. _

 

Kuroo and Kenma found them later, Keiji’s head resting against Bokuto’s shoulder as they both leaned back against Keiji’s tree. Bokuto’s jacket was around Keiji’s shoulders, and both of them were asleep.

“Akaashi…” Kenma breathed, noting the color that had returned to his friend’s cheeks for the first time since the rains.

“Bo won’t let anything happen to him, Kenma,” Kuroo dropped an arm cheekily around Kenma’s shoulders. “Just between us, I’m  _ preeeetty _ sure Akaashi’s seduced him with the whole ‘mysterious pretty boy in the forest’ vibe he’s got going. He even made him porridge and brought him a sweater today.”

“I see,” he saw the thermoses next to Bokuto’s bag and the new sweatshirt that was visible under Bokuto’s jacket. After a moment, though, glancing at a dryad peering down from a few trees over and giggling into her hand, he asked, “Are you sure it wasn’t Bokuto that seduced him, Kuro?”

Kuroo made a sound of surprise, then laughed, covering his mouth quickly.

“Unlikely, but maybe,” he answered, cheerfully. “C’mon, let’s go check out the other trees. We’ll come back to see if they’re up later.”

* * *

 

“AGAAASHEEEEEE!” the voice was loud and echoed through the trees, and Keiji stopped what he was doing to look up, watching as Bokuto ran into his line of sight. He was sweating and panting, but Keiji still watched him skirt around some of the smaller trees carefully so he wouldn’t hurt them.

“What is it, Bokuto-san?” Keiji asked, pushing himself to his feet. The tree beside him was finally pulsing with life, healthy and well for the first time in almost a year. His tree was still ailing, but the others were slowly coming around. 

“You gotta see this, c’mon,” he panted, reaching for Keiji’s wrist. Keiji let him take it, allowing himself to be pulled.

“See what?”

“I went to your tree first,” Bokuto answered, and Keiji’s blood ran cold. If something had happened to his oak, he surely would have felt it, wouldn’t he? But before he could panic, Bokuto continued. “You weren’t there, so I came looking for you. You were so hard to find! But c'mon, you have to see this!”

“You’re not making much sense, Bokuto-san,” he forced out, but his mind scrambled for others that could have been at his tree. He thought of Kenma and Kuroo, but Bokuto had called his visitor a ‘she’. He knew Shimizu, so he would have said it was her, or any of the others that lived in trees nearby. It had been nearly two months since they had started treating the trees, after all. Even Kuroo was probably aware of the magic in the woods by now, even if Kenma still hadn’t told him.

“Just  _ come _ !”

Keiji really didn’t have much of a choice, with Bokuto’s slightly callused fingers tightening around his slim wrist and tugging him forward, deeper into the forest. They weren’t heading towards Keiji’s tree, so his rapid heartbeat started to ease.

Dryads slipped through the trees beside them, giggling and whispering amongst themselves. Keiji couldn’t catch much, but they were excited. They were used to Bokuto’s presence in the forest, now, as well as Kuroo’s, but that didn’t seem to be enough to have them so energetic. He tried to spot Shimizu in the group, to call out to her and ask her why there was so much mirth among them today, but he could not find her.

“Bokuto-san, where are we going?” Keiji asked, still allowing himself to be led. Bokuto’s hand on his wrist slid a little, but his grip stayed true.

“You’ll see!”

Keiji sighed, almost fondly, but continued to follow.

They made their way past Kenma’s tree, a little deeper into the woods, and the dryads continued following. They giggled and twittered and a few made faces at Keiji that he really wished he didn’t know how to decipher. It only made him more conscious of the warm, slightly calloused fingers wrapped around his wrist.

And then they broke into a clearing and Bokuto chimed triumphantly, “Hey hey hey, I brought ‘Kaashi!”

“Nice one, Bo!”

“Thank you, Bokuto.”

Keiji blinked at scene in front of him. Kenma was standing, a bottle of water in his hands posing as a threat to Kuroo while Kuroo himself sprawled unafraid across a patchwork quilt spread across the grass. A basket, half unpacked, sat in the middle of the quilt, and Kuroo’s lips twitched up in a half smile as he pushed himself into a sitting position and waved at them.

“It’s a picnic!” Bokuto answered Keiji’s slightly confused silence, his fingers slipping a little on Keiji’s wrist. He seemed to notice a moment later and let his hand fall, grinning shyly as Keiji tried not to lament the loss of the warm hand on his wrist. “The trees are looking a little better, and we thought we could all take a long lunch break and eat together!”

“Surprise?” Kuroo suggested as Kenma made himself comfortable next to him. Kuroo yelped when Kenma pressed the presumably cold bottle to his visible calf, and snatched it quickly. “Jeez, Kenma, just give it to me like a normal person!”

Kenma snorted and rolled his eyes.

“C’mon, ‘Kaashi, sit down!” Bokuto’s hand pressed, featherlight, in the small of Keiji’s back until Keiji took that step forward and carefully folded his legs beneath him as he took the offered spot next to Kenma on the picnic blanket. Bokuto flopped less gracefully next to him, laughing.

“Anyway,” Kuroo sniffed, turning away from Kenma after the other had shown little to no remorse, “Bo and I worked really hard on this feast, just so our tree friends would appreciate us more.”

Kenma rolled his eyes. Ever since he’d apparently told Kuroo of his own nature, and Keiji’s, as half-dryads, the conservation student had adopted the phrase  _ tree friends _ for them. Kenma was unamused, but Keiji could tell it had grown on him, just like the human with the uncanny bedhead.

_ Just like the ornithology student with a blessing of Athena has grown on me _ , the traitorous thought slipped through his mind without his bidding, and Keiji felt his face grow warm. He glanced towards Bokuto and caught his eye as he reached for a sandwich from the basket. The human’s smile was just as bright as ever, and he held a sandwich out to Keiji. “Here, you’ve gotta be hungry, too!”

“If your throat is still a little sore, they brought soup with them, too,” Kenma supplied, sipping his own slowly. 

Keiji shook his head. “I feel better today.”

And he really did. Over the last couple of months, his oak tree, as well as the others that were ailing, had made improvements in leaps and bounds. Keiji was still subject to aches and pains that Bokuto declared were like allergies, which he thought was funny for a half-dryad.  _ It’s like you’re allergic to your own tree, _ he’d snorted once, and then proceeded to apologize if that was a little offensive.

It was kind of ironic, in a way, so Keiji wasn’t even mad. 

“You don’t have to push yourself, Akaashi,” Kuroo swallowed the grape he’d been eating and reached for another.

“I’m really not,” Keiji smiled at him, lifting his sandwich to take a small bite. He chewed and swallowed, then continued, “I feel fine today.”

An arm dropped around his shoulders and he glanced over to Bokuto even as the man shifted and his thigh brushed lightly against Keiji’s. In one of his more serious tones, he then told Keiji, “If you do feel like you want to leave early or anything, just let me know and I can walk you back, okay?”

Keiji scoffed and shook his head and repeated, “I’ll be fine. Just focus on the food, Bokuto-san, Kuroo-san.”

Bokuto’s arm slid from his shoulder again, though he stayed close.

“I’m serious, ‘Kaashi,” Bokuto said softly, for Keiji’s ears only. He hummed to acknowledge it, his ears burning just a little at the proximity, and he turned to his own sandwich once more. He didn’t really want to dwell too much on whatever he felt for Bokuto Koutarou, because he knew that Bokuto would eventually leave the forest. Most people who came through did, as proved by Keiji’s and Kenma’s own fathers.

Instead, he chose to enjoy what time they had together now and cherish these moments for as long as he could. 

* * *

 

Bokuto’s head rested on Keiji’s thigh, underneath his quickly recovering oak. The dappled light danced across his cheekbones and he lazily blinked his eyes against the light. Keiji’s fingers absentmindedly ran through his hair as he idly read through one of the texts Bokuto had brought him on caring for trees. The silence stretched between them as Keiji tried to forget how little time they had left together, and how the last few weeks, since that picnic, had only served to bring them closer.

Bokuto and Kuroo were leaving tomorrow.

Keiji knew now, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he’d allowed himself to get perhaps a little too attached to Bokuto, but he knew from the beginning that there hadn’t really been any way to keep it from happening.

Bokuto Koutarou smiled like the sun and laughed like a warm spring breeze, so how could Keiji resist? 

Casual touches between them, much like their current arrangement, had become almost commonplace, and Keiji had caught himself wondering what it would be like to be closer on more than one occasion. But he exercised restraint, on some levels, and refrained from pushing their relationship beyond the boundaries of whatever their current arrangement was.

He also realized that he might, just might, care more deeply for this human than he’d ever anticipated.

“I don’t ever want to leave,” Bokuto murmured after a while, staring straight up. “This is nice, and I don’t want to leave.”

“You have class and your position with the agency you’re interning with,” Keiji answered bluntly, because that was easier than telling Bokuto  _ I want you to stay, too _ . “You’ve come too far in your college career to give up so soon.”

“Hmmm,” Bokuto closed his eyes, and Keiji unabashedly watched the light flicker across his cheekbones. “Never said I was givin’ up, ‘Kaashi. Just that I don’t want to leave.”

Keiji could sense the oncoming autumn in the air and tried to close his heart. The cycle would continue, as it always had. The warmth of the summer months was giving way to the chill of autumn and then winter, and the brightness that was Bokuto would fade with it.

_ I don’t want you to go, either _ .

* * *

 

Keiji had watched Bokuto Koutarou walk away from him six months ago, and he hadn’t stopped thinking about him since.

That probably wasn’t surprising, since he still possessed the simple cell phone that Bokuto had pressed into his hand before he’d left, flushing a little as he curled his fingers around the phone and around Keiji’s. It was hard to forget about someone when you heard from them at least every other day, after all.

“ _ Kenma can help you learn to use it, since I know Kuroo helped him get one a few weeks ago _ ,” Bokuto had said, in a bit of a rush. “ _ I want to keep in touch!” _

Charging their phones tended to take Keiji and Kenma into town even more often than they were used to, even with the battery pack that Kuroo had given Kenma, but Keiji couldn’t find it in him to regret it when the device chimed to alert him to a new message from the conservation student. And on the occasions the phone rang, Keiji was only too happy to excuse himself from whatever company he may be in, just to hear the sound of Bokuto’s voice.

There had been a few days of silence, though. It didn’t concern Keiji too much, since Bokuto had told him about  _ finals _ and a few exams and licensing things he had to take care of, but it would have been nice to hear from him.

“You’re thinking about that human again, aren’t you?” a lilting, teasing voice danced upon the air, and Keiji looked around. He could feel the pulse of life, singing through the trunk of his oak where the bark pressed into his back, and the pulse only heightened in his mother’s presence. She smiled at him, brushing her fingers against a few low-hanging branches in his tree–the phantom touch ghosted around his knees, and he pulled himself to his feet.

“Mother,” he said inclining his head in greeting.

“Still so stiff. You should learn from young Koutarou,” she snorted, pressing her palm more firmly against the trunk of the young oak. “He took good care of you both, so I’m eternally grateful to him, you know.”

There was an underlying hint in her tone that Keiji just barely deciphered as  _ I like him  _ and a little bit of  _ we should keep him around _ , and Keiji silently agreed. 

“Bokuto-san is in a league of his own,” he said instead, and she just grinned.

“He sure is,” she agreed readily, reaching out to wrap her arms around Keiji’s, her touch gentle and loose. “I’m glad that he and Tetsurou were the two that came to scout the forest and help out, though. If it weren’t for them…”

_ I’m not sure everything would have been so cleanly resolved _ , he imagined she was thinking in the silence that followed. That, or  _ I’m not sure you would still be here. _

“Anyway,” she held his arm more tightly. “Can I ask you, my wonderful and responsible son, to look into something for me?”

Keiji arched a skeptical brow.

“Oh, don’t give me that look. It’s just that I’ve heard rumors of someone perhaps moving into the old ranger’s shed, and I wondered if you could check it out for me.”

“What’s keeping you from asking one of the dryads in that area?” Keiji asked, although he had nothing against checking the cabin for its rumored new inhabitant. He had been planning to head in that general direction anyway, to check on the recovery of a tree that had been struck by lightning a few weeks ago in a storm.

“Keiji, you  _ are _ one of the dryads in the area, aren’t you?” his mother smiled. “I suppose Kiyoko is closer, but she was going in town to help with some of those trees today and I don’t know when she’ll be back.”

He didn’t ask her why she didn’t just go herself, since she was technically nearer now. Instead, he responded, “I was heading over that way today, anyway. I can let you know tonight if I learn anything.”

“Don’t rush it,” she pressed her cheek into his shoulder, leaning against him. He wrapped his arm around her in a half hug and she laughed, pulling away a few moments later. “It’s fine if you tell me later. It’s just curiosity, after all. Things tend to change slowly in the forest, so it’s always interesting when something new crops up, isn’t it?”

Keiji thought about Bokuto’s grin, the way he seemed to drag Keiji around and also the loud, bright way he  _ cared _ , and he felt himself smiling. Bokuto’s presence in the forest had certainly been a welcome change, and he wished that brief period had lasted longer. He had no way of knowing if the cheerful ornithologist would come back because it wasn’t something he’d dared ask in their correspondence, but he couldn’t deny that he wanted him to.

His mother grinned knowingly and stepped back. “I’m actually expected elsewhere in a few hours, for a gathering. A few of the Hunters are going to be in the area.”

She was always present when Artemis’ Hunters were around, Keiji recalled. She was one that had the favor of the goddess, after all, so it didn’t surprise him that she often supported the Hunters when they were nearby, whether it was helping them find more berries or the freshest fruits, or just as company.

“Have fun,” he said simply, smiling at her as she stepped back.

Her eyes twinkled. “You too, Keiji!” 

She slipped back through the trees, the light breeze carrying her chuckle back to him like the sound of rustling leaves.

In hindsight, he thought as he turned in the direction of the cabin, his mother was pretty chipper today. It was nice, seeing her far more cheerful than she had been months prior, when his tree was ailing. Keiji was still a little confused as to why she didn’t check it herself, since her connection to nature was as strong as any dryad in this forest, but he figured it was probably her own way to help him get his mind off of Bokuto for a little while. 

He smiled fondly to himself, both at his mother’s roundabout care and the flickering memory of a wide, bright smile, and made his way towards the cabin with little incident.

Keiji heard soft voices, giggling and rustling amongst themselves, before he even reached his destination, and he realized there were a few of the young dryads at the edge of the trees, peering towards the small house in the clearing.

“Were the rumors true?” he asked, stepping up, and a few turned to him. One grinned widely and nodded, another giggled, and a third just stepped aside.

“See for yourself,” she hummed, her words lilting almost like a song.

Keiji made a noise of assent and stepped forward, to the edge of the treeline and a few steps beyond, until he drew short and stopped. A particularly loud giggle from behind him alerted the person in front of him to his presence, and the man turned from placing a box on the small porch.

He still smiled like the sun, and Keiji was speechless.

“Aghasheeeeeee! Hey hey heeeeey!” Bokuto beamed, waving with wide, open motions and jogging over. “I was waiting for you!”

“How were you waiting, Bokuto-san?” Keiji asked blankly, stumbling a bit as he started to walk forward. Bokuto jogged over to meet him. “You didn’t even tell me you were coming! How could you wait if I didn’t know to be here?”

“Your mom, of course!” the man’s smile was contagious, and Keiji felt his lips slide into a small, fond grin, even as he quirked an amused eyebrow.

“My mother…? What does she–” her words suddenly rushed back.  _ I wondered if you could check it out for me _ , she’d said, that knowing twinkle in her eyes. Keiji bit back the rest of his words and instead asked, “How did you let her know without telling me? Why couldn’t you ask Kenma?”

Bokuto laughed and reached out. Keiji allowed himself to be tugged into a bear hug before Bokuto answered, “You mean you don’t know?”

“Know what?” Keiji asked, a little disgruntled, as Bokuto released him and looked him over slowly. Carefully. Keiji flushed a little under the attention.

“Her cell phone number!” Bokuto laughed, tugging at Keiji’s arm just slightly so that Keiji turned a little. “Man, ‘Kaashi, your tree must be doing a lot better now, huh? You’re looking so much healthier than last time I saw you!”

Keiji was momentarily hung up on his  _ mother _ having a cell phone. 

He forgot about it when Bokuto gently placed his hand on Keiji’s cheek and, with a bright grin and twinkling amber eyes, softly whispered, “It’s unfair, how you’re even prettier now than before.”

His cheeks heated up, and he could see that a light dusting of color was spreading across Bokuto’s, too.

“T-that's irrelevant, Bokuto-san,” Keiji managed, but he made no effort to move from the touch. “I–”

“You're right,” Bokuto interjected before Keiji could finish his thought. “You're beautiful no matter how you feel, so it's still really unfair, you know!”

He pressed his forehead gently to Keiji's, and he knew there would be no hiding his flush as they breathed the same air.

“ _ You're _ unfair,” he muttered, no venom in his tone. Bokuto laughed breathlessly, his hands sliding down until he could push his fingers into the hair at Keiji's nape. 

“Maybe.”

A pause, and then, “Hey hey, 'Kaashi...can I kiss you?”

With just those simple words, Bokuto Koutarou stole his breath away. And so Keiji didn't even say anything, but pressed forward and stole it back.

 

**Author's Note:**

> podsjaf;lsdfl;kjsad;fkljsdkfa
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> I kind of kept wondering if I was focusing on dryads enough but it was kind of...hard, when dryads are traditionally female and the characters are male, so I did what I could and I like the result? I hope you did too, Snickers! <3
> 
> Find me on tumblr at my HQ sideblog [karasun013](http://karasun013.tumblr.com) or my main at [panda013](http://panda013.tumblr.com)!


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